


The Price of Abandonment

by TK_DuVeraun



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bad coping mechanisms, Blood mages gonna blood mage, Depression, F/M, Idiots in Love, Rite of Tranquility, Tranquility, curing tranquility, unusual body modification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 05:43:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16738201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TK_DuVeraun/pseuds/TK_DuVeraun
Summary: Two years after his beloved Inquisitor lied to him instead of joining him in Tevinter, Terenti Sokolov decided he had enough of waiting for a love that would never come. Blood magic should have told him where she was. That it didn't meant only one thing: she was dead.It's never too late for revenge. If only Fear will cooperate.---AU/Alternate ending toUlterior Motives, branching off after Chapter 18





	The Price of Abandonment

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ulterior Motives](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16389332) by [Ghilenan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghilenan/pseuds/Ghilenan), [SuperNerd92](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperNerd92/pseuds/SuperNerd92), [TK_DuVeraun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TK_DuVeraun/pseuds/TK_DuVeraun). 



> Please read [Ulterior Motives](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16389332) for context. An illustration for this fic can be found [here](https://ghilenart.tumblr.com/post/176926557269/and-because-i-exist-only-to-hurt-my-ocs-i-did).

Caer Cyfartha’s parapets rose high into the sky, far higher than its crumbling walls should have been able to support. Terenti cared only in as much as it would be easier to destroy once he had collected Ilena’s knife. His face hurt - Fear was examining the fortress with interest from the violet crystal around Terenti’s eyes. It was a Chantry enclave on the edge of the Dales where the White Divine had hidden all of the true knowledge and secrets of magic the Chantry didn’t want their precious, collared mages to know about.

The cameo around his neck burned with its emptiness as he snuck through the fortress. At first, he’d thought the magic failed. That, perhaps, the blood hadn’t been Ilena’s and that was why her portrait didn’t appear, but Fear had been quick to correct him. No, the blood had been hers; the magic failed because his beloved elf was dead.

Room after empty room, Terenti searched, all through the lower levels. He found a vault locked behind spells and enchantments. He gritted his teeth. _Enough with your curiosity. I paid for this; show me inside._

Fear said nothing, but relinquished control of magic imbedded in his flesh. The blue in Terenti’s irises drained out, only to be replaced by a pulsing purple from the magic crystal. The vault doors were nearly blinding with their magic, but with a pull on the Fade he could see past those. The knife, Ilena’s father’s knife, was not inherently magical, but he knew it, had shed blood on it; he’d be able to see it with this disturbed sight of Fear’s.

It was not in the vault.

With a growl and a swirl of his robes, Terenti stalked out of the dungeon levels and up through the fortress. Nothing else for it: he would have to torture people until he found it. And no Maker or Creators or Qun could save their souls from what he would do if they had lost the knife. Wisps of Fear magic emanated from the crystal around his eyes and trailed after him as he stalked up the stairs. He could see through the walls and doors and the traces of magic burned, but he didn’t care because he wouldn’t need any sight once his task was complete.

Halfway through the fortress, Terenti found someone bright enough to Fear’s eyes that they might be in charge, or at least high enough in the ranks to know where the Inquisitor’s belongings were kept. The door flared in fire for just a moment before dropping into a pile of ash on the floor. Usually, that was enough to send the inhabitants screaming and cowering, but not… this… time…

Terenti’s heart came back to life just to shrivel up and burst in his chest again. The Inquisitor was not dead. _Ilena_ was not dead. Technically.

“Your magic is more powerful,” Ilena, but not-Ilena said, her voice as vacant and empty as Caer Cyfartha was about to be. “And you are not wearing your illusions.”

He looked up at her, vaguely wondering when he’d fallen to his knees. He reached for her hands, but she only had one. One. The left was gone and the anchor with it. He was glad of it, but nothing else. Terenti looked into her eyes, but a stranger stared back at him from under the sunburst brand. “When?” His voice was hoarse and he couldn’t remember the last time he spoke. “When did they do this to you?”

“One hundred and twenty-eight days ago.”

Terenti howled and magic poured out of his face to hover cloud-like over his head in the shape of a skull. He yanked on Ilena’s arm and pulled her to the floor, clutching her unresponsive form close against his chest. She felt wrong. The magic in her was wrong and stifled and corrupted and cold and terrible. She didn’t even smell right, but everything would be fine. He remembered well Seeker Pentaghast’s tantrum on finding the cure for Tranquility. Ilena would be fine. His hands shook as they brushed down her hair.

“They do not see to my needs here. It would be best if you took me from Caer Cyfartha,” the ghost in his love’s body said.

“I will. Rest assured. I will.”

\---

Ilena’s knife was a simple thing. The blade was engraved with the mask of the Dalish and the hilt was bound in tight leather. New leather, from the last time he’d seen it, but it carried the faint feel of her magic, so Terenti handled it with the utmost care. She was staring at him from across the fire, her eyes devoid of all curiosity and fire. They burned so much hotter than the flames.

After clearing his throat, Terent sheathed the knife and returned her stare. Anything he asked, she would answer honestly. As a Tranquil, she had no need for secrets. A better man would let her keep them.

“A hundred and twenty days… Four months. You sent me away two years ago. Why? Why would you?” His voice nearly broke, not that she could laugh derisively at him if it did.

“I was possessed by a spirit. I thought it would be easier if I sent you away than if you found out and left me.” She paused. “The spirit is gone now.”

Terenti leapt to his feet and nearly threw the knife into the fire. “A spirit? All of my suffering over a fucking spirit? My brother has been near-possessed by a hunger demon for fifteen-some years.” He jabbed himself nearly in the eye when he gestured to the purple crystal lining his eyes. “And Fear’s had a good run with my head and you think I would have fucking cared?”

“It was not a logical decision,” Ilena said. In another world, she might have shrugged, but there was no self-deprecation in the words. Just- Just factual recitation. “I believed my feelings for you were not genuine, with the spirit’s influence.”

Terenti howled at the night sky like some of kind mangy cur and then sat down again, panting. This was so much worse than he’d imagined. He’d dreading to find her shacked up with some proper Dalish elf with a brat on the way, but this, this was such a worse betrayal. The confirmation that she’d felt the same, but let her stupid thoughts ruin everything was… It felt like blood was spurting out of the gaping hole in his chest.

The Tranquil didn’t react to his actions. She didn’t move or speak independently until curling up on her bedroll without a word. Soon, she slept, breathing quieter and more even than it had been before. There was no sound Terenti knew better than her proper breathing after countless nights laid awake next to her. Even in sleep, her face seemed frozen in that empty, vapid expression. He regretted attempting to make the cameo. He regretted coming South to retrieve a token. He regretted meeting her, doubly so, since he couldn’t even remember it.

Their meeting and… And most of it. He couldn’t - and would never - remember most of it. Yes, Fear could see through the augmentation on his face, but that wasn’t _enough._ The demon had taken every good memory of Ilena in exchange for the ability to find her. It had been such an easy trade at the time. She was dead; he’d never be happy again. What did he need happy memories for? Hopeless tears escaped him, even as Fear laughed in the back of his head. Surely the demon had already known the truth. Probably had even planned for Terenti to bring the fortress down on his belovèd only to reveal the truth once it was too late.

He almost wished he had. At least then it would be over. He wouldn’t have to see the eyes that weren’t hers open again in the morning and stare blankly out at the woods with no soul. The knife felt as hot as a brand and every instinct screamed at him - with Fear’s encouragement - to slit her throat and end his suffering. The tears came hard and with silent sobs. Terenti sat next to the fire, his body rocking from the force of them until the moon began to sink.

\---

The Inquisition’s invitation to the Exalted Council was revoked the moment they discovered Ilena’s condition. Terenti had intended to leave Skyhold immediately. He had his token, his closure, that his love was dead. Seeker Pentaghast could fumble and try and fail and make things worse and what did it matter?

But one memory of her Fear had left was her sending him away. Her deception, the first knife in his heart: the wound that still bled. She had sent him away and she was wrong and he hated her more than he loved her and he’d be even more damned if he did what she wanted now. Instead, Terenti spent his days sitting next to her as she read and made notes on Maker only knew what, but he certainly didn’t care. He let none approach her.

Ilena was _his._ Her Inquisition had let the cultists at Caer Cyfartha kill her. That meant he was the only one left who deserved her. She slept on a cot in his room, refusing a room of her own or even a proper bed as unnecessary. Terenti spent every night awake staring at her and feeling what shards were left of his heart freeze at every uneven breath. Fear tormented him waking and sleeping, but at least rewarded with him not being as tired.

It liked how he suffered to see her.

It liked less Seeker Pentaghast’s progress.

Terenti watched the reversal process three times before he agreed. Even the White Divine didn’t question his right to decline on Ilena’s behalf, perhaps out of guilt for having failed so horrifically as a spymaster, but the reason mattered not.

The spirit of Compassion that agreed to assist irritated Fear on a level that gave Terenti a spark of visceral hope. Perhaps it could truly work. The theory was simple, derived from what the Nightmare had said in the Fade. Compassion could take memories just as easily as Fear, but Compassion would not keep them. As Ilena became more accustomed to her emotions, her memories would return. Perhaps not in any order that made sense, spirits being what they were, but they would return and, in time, Ilena would be close to what she once was.

Terenti missed her every night she slept back up in her tower room, with little in her mind but her name and forests and aravels. During the day, she clung to him and sobbed at every strong memory that pressed against her raw emotions. His heart bled for her, for her pain, for how he was a stranger to her, but at least it was alive to bleed. Alive and in his arms and wetting his shoulder. When she sat silently, trying to process the memories, he would grow vines and make flowers bloom for her. Tiny, delicate things. He had little talent for his grandmother’s elvhen magic, but it never failed to make her smile and that was pain he needed to resist Fear’s whispering.

When he wasn’t spinning nature magic for her, Terenti kept himself under the effects of a weak magebane solution. Fear had more than a foothold in him, he knew. If anything else went wrong with Ilena… It didn’t matter that he didn’t remember why he cared for her, she was his. Vas understood, in his letters, but had no advice.

Though he was bad at it, Ilena allowed Terenti to braid her hair. With only one arm, she couldn’t do it herself and her grasp on magic waxed and waned as her memories returned. She was a mixed bag of emotions, but she had enough pride to allow few besides him to see her so poorly. He imagined that should have made him feel better, but with Fear’s cold claws always on his mind, it was difficult to find anything but cold anticipation of loss in it. She’d find a new, equally stupid reason to send him away once all of her memories were back.

He wasn’t sure if he would go, then. He would make the cameo, certainly, because not knowing had been a trip to the Void itself, but beyond that, he was unsure. His feelings for her were so fragile and hollow without any good memories, even if he struggled to see how avenging the slaughter of her clan could be a good memory.

But while he remained, he held close and dried her tears and told her nothing would change the fact that she belonged to him.

\---

“I hate you.”

Terenti looked up from Vas’ letter. Even though the Tranquility was gone, the sunburst brand remained on her forehead. Even though he hadn’t been raised with the fear of it, it still hurt Terenti to see it. The anger and emotion in her eyes soothed the ache in his chest somewhat.

“You came back. I told you to go to Tevinter.” There were tears in her eyes. “I told you to leave. Why did you come back?”

Heart in his throat, dropped the letter, stood and yanked Ilena into his arms. She gave a cry like a wounded animal and clutched him, her fingers digging into his shoulders. Terenti held her and fought to the wail in his chest. He pressed his forehead against her crown and squeezed. “You’re back. You’re _back_.”

Ilena sobbed and just repeated, “I told you to _leave_.”

“Your first mistake was expecting me to listen.”

\---

Terenti growled as he watched Ilena struggle to feed herself with her magical left hand. It was not a prosthetic hand powered by magic, no, the proud idiot had simply made the entire thing from magic and thought to use it to eat.

“For fuck’s sake, woman, you’re not even left-handed,” Terenti groused.

His exclamation made Ilena lose her concentration and the spoon dropped back into her bowl with a clatter. She glared at him and smacked him with the malformed magic. “I am _trying_ to practice fine motor control, you idiot.”

“Maybe now you’ll do the sensible thing and stay in the back line with me instead of running stupidly into the thick of battle,” Terenti said. He leaned back in his chair until only two legs were on the floor. Despite his casual tone and dismissive attitude, he kept his ankle touching her knee, still unable to break contact.

“Shut up. I’m not going to be the one that embarrasses us at those stupid Tevinter parties,” Ilena snapped, picking up the spoon again.

The chair gave out underneath Terenti and he hit the ground with the crash. “Tevinter?! You’re going to Tevinter?” He stood, righted his chair and sat down again. “With Pavus, I suppose, to help with his poli-”

“Don’t propose a third time. The first two were bad enough. I got the idea and agreed already.”

First, elation. Then… confusion. “A… third time?”

Ilena dropped the spoon again and let the magic of her arm dissipate. Her glare was annoyed and bordering on angry. And not in the fun way. “Yes, a third time. You muddled your way through it twice, no reason to… Do you really not remember?”

Terenti knew he was treading dangerous water, but he wasn’t sure how to get out. His mind had been muddled ever since the ritual to make the cameo failed. “Of course I remember. You laughed at me.”

She didn’t buy it. “You don’t remember.” Then louder. “You don’t remember? How could you-” Ilena froze, her eyes on his, except _not_ on his. They were on the magical growths around his eyes. “What did you trade?”

Terenti pushed his chair back from the table. “I don’t know what you’re-”

Ilena grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in. “What did you give Fear for that magic?”

“The only thing I had left, since you took everything else!” Terenti hissed.

“The only thing- How much did you forget? What did it _take_?” Ilena tried to shake him, but couldn’t get proper leverage with only one hand. “Answer me!”

“I didn’t exactly need memories of you if you were dead, did I?” Terenti shouted.

Ilena shook her head and released him. She swiped at her face and looked offended to find tears on her cheeks. She shook her head again. With a sniff, she turned her back on him. “I need… To be alone. For a little while.” She paused and even if Terenti could see her face, he could hear the tears in her voice. “Don’t go anywhere. Don’t you fucking dare.”

Terenti didn’t follow her out of the room.

He hoped he wouldn’t regret it.

\---

The chasm in his chest had reopened. Maybe he was dependent on Ilena. Maybe he didn’t fucking care. No matter how stupid he kept telling himself he was, he didn’t care that he didn’t remember her. He’d loved her once and he was never wrong. Except about his mother, but that was different. She’d been evil. Ilena was too dumb to be that evil. Whatever they’d had had been real or it wouldn’t have blown up so dramatically in their faces.

At least, that’s what Terenti told himself as he laid alone in their bed that night. The magic on his face felt wrong. Maybe Fear didn’t like the new developments, didn’t like how Terenti was no longer on the verge of full capitulation. Probably. Either way, his face itched and burned in turns and he wouldn’t have been able to sleep even if he could normally. He hadn’t had the courage to watch the stables and make sure she hadn’t lied and was leaving.

He hadn’t even had the energy to pretend it was because he trusted her. He was afraid, terrified, that the few days they’d spent together since the last of her memories came back would be the last he had with her. As the night passed with no sign of her, he fought the urge to dig through his bags for the last few traces of her blood that he had. He should have made the cameo while she was recovering, should have made a stupid Southern phylactery or something to give him peace of mind.

Dread settled over his mind as dawn’s light first started creeping in the tower windows. It wouldn’t be dawn on the ground for some time, but the light felt like it was renewing a curse. It stung his eyes and- Actually, no, it was- Terenti screamed as the magical augmentations on his face burned and flared into pain far greater than their creation had held. He clawed at his face and his hands came away bloody, but Fear didn’t answer his calls. He fell unconscious before he knew what was happening.

—

Sa’alle’s voice was just as insufferable as ever. Terenti could only make out every other word at first, not that it mattered. He was scolding someone in that ridiculous way healers always thought would make people stop doing things that injured them. Tentatively, Terenti reached up and touched around his right eye. The crystal was still smooth and cold. He pulled on the Fade and everything turned wispy and blurry but translucent, so he released the magic and blinked. His vision took longer to return to normal, so he whined loudly in his head.

No response.

With a frown, he rolled onto his side and watch Sa’alle get on with his scolding. Relief flooded him with annoyance in equal measure when he realized that Sa’alle was complaining at Ilena. Terenti grabbed a bowl next to his bed and threw it at the back of his head. He missed and hit him square in the back, but it got his attention well-enough. “Leave her alone, Sa’alle. She’s mine.”

Sa’alle made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat and threw his hands in the air dramatically before leaving.

Terenti frowned at Ilena once he left. She looked as guilty as she was smug. “What did you do this time? Piss off Fear?”

“I,” Ilena started, though even the simple word came out as a croak. She coughed several times. “I did not _piss off_ Fear. I _killed_ Fear.”

Mouth open to disagree, Terenti froze before the first word could escape him. Not because she looked weak and tired from whatever it was she had done, no, it was because she could very well be telling the truth. He scanned back through his memories and… They were all there. A little jumbled and exaggerated, but it was all back. Every shared glance, hair tuck, soft touch, rough touch…

“…Just like that.”

“I’m the Inquisitor. I do whatever the fuck I want.”

Terenti closed his eyes and years of exhaustion struck him all at once. He cried in relief. Before he let sleep take him, he said, or tried to, “Want to take over Tevinter, _vhenan_?”

  



End file.
